<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140</id><updated>2011-07-28T21:54:50.840-11:00</updated><category term='Teachers'/><title type='text'>Tsunami Stories</title><subtitle type='html'>stories from the 09.29.09 American Samoa tsunami survivors</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-4097020792133995421</id><published>2015-10-04T23:59:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T09:27:08.622-11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teachers'/><title type='text'>American Samoa Tsunami Relief Fund</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 9.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;On September 29, 2009 an 8.3-magntude earthquake, followed by 15 smaller quakes, rocked the South Pacific. The earthquakes originated approximately 120 miles southwest of American Samoa and sparked a tsunami. Around 6:50 AM, a series of 4 waves crashed into the island and sent seawater surging hundreds of yards inland. The second and third waves caused the most damage and were recorded at heights as high as twenty feet. The tsunami has affected the entire island, but has caused severe damage in several villages including Pago Pago, the territory’s capitol, Aua, Leone, Fagasa, and Amanave. The physical damage is indescribable as many houses and family stores were washed away. But the real tragedy comes with the number of lives that were taken, as the tsunami struck when people were heading to work or walking to school. Though clean up has been speedy due to the work ethic of the Samoan people, the island will take a very long time to fully recover from the disaster. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I am living in American Samoa as a volunteer teacher, working with the WorldTeach non-profit organization based out of Harvard University's Center for International Development. During my stay in American Samoa, I have observed the challenges the students and their families face. I am sure that the affects of the tsunami will only add to the students’ struggles. At Samoana High School, where I teach, four teachers have completely lost their homes and all their possessions. The status for all the students is still unknown but many have also lost their homes and family businesses. We know of at least eleven students that have been orphaned due to this tragedy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;In an effort to ease the burdens of the September 29&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: 8.0px Arial; letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt; tsunami, I have organized a disaster relief fund to directly benefit the people of American Samoa. All funds donated to this American Samoa Tsunami Relief Fund will go directly to the students and teachers affected at Samoana High School. All funds received will be used to provide clothing, food, building supplies, and other life essentials to the tsunami victims. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I have worked with both Firstgivings and WorldTeach to establish a secure and easy way to give. If you would like to make a contribution via credit card, please visit &lt;a href="http://www.firstgiving.com/astsunamirelief"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 13.0px Arial; text-decoration: underline ; letter-spacing: 0.0px color:#000099;"&gt;http://www.firstgiving.com/astsunamirelief&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: 13.0px Arial; letter-spacing: 0.0px color:#222222;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;At a time like this, each dollar will make a difference. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Also, this blog has been set up to share the personal stories of the tsunami survivors. Pictures and stories will be continually added in the coming weeks. Here you can read the stories of the WorldTeach volunteers and American Samoans you will be helping. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Arial;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-4097020792133995421?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/4097020792133995421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/american-samoa-tsunami-relief-fund.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/4097020792133995421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/4097020792133995421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/american-samoa-tsunami-relief-fund.html' title='American Samoa Tsunami Relief Fund'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-4084369252851388823</id><published>2015-10-04T23:58:00.001-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T10:15:39.457-11:00</updated><title type='text'>About The Stories</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Times;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; width: auto; font: normal normal normal 100%/normal Georgia, serif; text-align: left; "&gt;The following stories are unedited and written by students and teachers of American Samoa. They all have very different personal views and experiences. As you read, please remember that English is not the first language of many students. Enjoy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-4084369252851388823?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/4084369252851388823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/about-stories.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/4084369252851388823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/4084369252851388823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/about-stories.html' title='About The Stories'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-1012695729329303891</id><published>2015-10-04T23:57:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T09:29:38.336-11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teachers'/><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Jessie Weber</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tsunami Story&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jessie Weber: World Teach Volunteer &amp;amp; Samoana High School Teacher&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Tuesday September 29th started off like any other morning. I woke up early, took the 35 minute bus ride from Faleniu to Utulei, and was stopping to pick up a bottle of water. At 6:40 I had just entered Young Mart, a local convenient store, when the first major earthquake hit. Things were falling from the shelves, the building began rattling, and the store clerk screamed for everyone to get out. There was definitely panic in the air, but once the trebling stopped- maybe a full minute or two later- everyone switched gears and acted like the quake was no big deal. So I shrugged off the incident like everyone else. I went back inside and made my purchase like normal. Excited about the events, though, I tried to call back home but the phone lines were already down. About 5 minutes after leaving the store, I was sitting at my Samoana High School classroom desk when the rattling started again.  All of a sudden the school bells started ringing and a small group of students who hang out behind my classroom began running and screaming. Still unsure of what was going on, I walked to the front door of my room and peaked outside. Students were running and a pickup truck full of boys raced by. I’ll never forget them yelling “Quick, Ms. Jessie! Jump in or run fast!” I ran back in my room and threw my laptop into my backpack before sprinting out the door. (Yes, in hindsight I know this was a poor decision!) Just as I shut my classroom door, the last few students and a teacher, Femi, ran around the corner of the building. Femi yelled for us to run towards the tramway as fast as possible. My school is less than 50 yards from the ocean and is wedged between the coast and the base of a mountain.  Right behind campus is the old tramway trail up the mountain, so the trail was packed full of students, teachers, local workers, and Utulei residents scrambling to high ground. School wasn’t scheduled to start for another hour and half, so only about 150 students and 4 teachers were on campus and headed for safety.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt; At this point chaos was in the air, and the threat of a tsunami was real. After literally running up the mountain, we came to a look out point and stopped to get a glimpse of the land below. The road and village were deserted. We could tell a wave had hit because the road and the ground below were wet, the dips in the road were flooded, and rocks and debris lay strewn about. The damage, however, wasn’t enormous. As we looked out into the bay waves were traveling in the wrong direction. The bay was quickly emptying and all the water was traveling out into the depths of the harbor. After a few minutes the entire bay was just exposed coral and rock. Just as soon as the bay emptied, though, it filled back up and reached the brim of the coastline. We watched this happen a total of 4 times. After the first wave, the water never spilled over the seawall. (Little did we know that this wasn’t the case everywhere.) Everyone stood at the mountain top speechless. Realizing that we probably weren’t the hardest hit area, students began to cry. In Samoa family is the core of society and plays an unbelievable important role in one’s entire life. Students couldn’t help think about their parents and younger siblings closer to the harbor. With nothing else to do and unsure about what was going to happen next the students organized themselves into 2 concentric circles. Quickly all the kids linked hands and there we stood connected. Our surroundings were idyllic: the sky was bright blue, a cool breeze blew, and lush green trees and plants filled the mountain top. In unison, everyone began to sing. Samoans naturally have the most beautiful voices, so magnificent sounds filled the air. After the first song, one person led the group in prayer before the circle chimed in with one final melody. As we stood connected, tears streamed down many of the kids’ faces, and it was hard for me to stay dry-eyed. Those five minutes of togetherness  formed one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. In the midst of such tragedy and crisis, the students were united by their faith and knew nothing else to do except sing and pray to their heavenly father. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Once everyone collected themselves, we sat down to wait. We didn’t know what was next or if another tsunami would come. For the first hour or so we felt several other tremors, and each time we would watch the water for signs of another wave. The phone lines were down for the most part, and I could never call out, but I was able to receive 3 calls over the course of the morning. Brandi, our WorldTeach field director, called me twice. The first was to make sure I was okay and well, and the next was to see if I had been able to contact any of the other volunteers to make sure they were safe- unfortunately I was by myself and unable to reach anyone else. The other call was from Kate, a good friend and fellow volunteer. I was relieved to hear her voice, as she let me know that the Leone group of volunteers had escaped the disaster. She did provide new info about the tsunami. Apparently waves in Leone had reached 15 feet and waves in Pago had reached 20 feet and wiped out 2 story buildings. After her call we heard many more rumors about damage and deaths. We hoped none of it was true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;After 4 hours of waiting and the students growing restless, we heading back down the mountain. As there were not many teachers in the crowd, Femi and I trailed the pack to make sure all the students made it down. We headed to a church at the half way point to see if there was anyone we knew. We didn’t find any friends, but a whole village was camped out around the exterior of the building. Once we reached the base we ran into a student covered in mud. Serene had been in Pago when the earthquakes and tsunami hit, and she managed to salvage her camera and take pictures of the destruction. After things were safe she had run over to the school to show people what had happened. Her pictures showed massive devastation and destruction - nothing I had expected to see. The Utulei bay is very shallow and that is what saved the village and school. Pago, however, is at the end of the deep harbor and didn’t fare nearly as well. Her camera showed images of cars in the second stories of buildings, bare slab foundations where buildings had been torn away, and debris everywhere. Pago is just a few minutes walk and two villages away from my school in Utulei. I couldn’t believe the difference in impact and destruction. I could already tell that other parts of the island had endured massive devastation. With nothing else to do, Femi and I caught a ride back to my house. As we drove along the coast road, we had to swerve around piles of debris. Damage was done, but I had yet to see total destruction. In Nu’uuli the coast road curves and moves inland. Here there was a back up of several hundred cars. Once the first quake hit cars came to a halt and the police barricaded the road so no one could travel next to the coast. Femi lives next to the water so she stayed at my house for a few hours. I live in the most inland part of the island and on fairly high ground. If anything else was coming, we would be safe. Sitting at my house I felt useless. I knew there was so much damage, but there was nothing I could do. The next morning I found out all teachers were supposed to check in at their schools, but Julia (my housemate) and I wanted to find somewhere we could help. We walked around town, and found nowhere that really needed us...If only we had walked 5 minutes further  we would have uncovered a different story. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The next day, Thursday, we got more news at our Samoana staff meeting. Four teachers and their families were homeless. At least eleven students were orphaned- their parents killed by the waves... This is when everything began hitting hard emotionally. Until now I had been scared, I had felt extreme sadness, I had felt the helplessness that usually accompanies tragedy, but now things became very personal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Once our meeting was over, I travelled with Max into Pago. I couldn’t believe the destruction. There were many places where foundations stood with no buildings attached. Boats were hundreds of feet inland and crashed into buildings. Cars were wrecked every hundred feet or so, and  building parts and debris covered everything. Max had been here the day before and said that the amount of clean up had already been enormous. (I can’t imagine what it looked like before). Everyone walked around with face masks to protect themselves from the debris and stench filled air. A layer of smoke also filled the village as many fires were set up to burn the rubble. I imagine Pago resembling something like a war zone. As we walked Max told me stories he had heard and things he had seen the day before. He pointed out the areas where many bodies were found and the former homes of our students and fellow teachers. As we walked I ran into a few students. One was sitting outside his family store. It barely stood, and looters had come through and taken anything that was left. Each time we met a student, Max and I were amazed at their spirits. I’m convinced that Samoa has some of the strongest children. Houses wiped away, family members gone, but still the kids smile, joke, and carry on with life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The past few days have, thus, been filled by much emotion. Feeling helpless here in many ways led me to organize an effort for people back home to help. Hopefully the American Samoa Tsunami Relief Fund makes a difference, however small, by helping people rebuild there lives. School resumes for the first time tomorrow, and I’m sure I will be faced with a new set of emotions. I have been dreading the stories my students will bring me and my thoughts have been with them since I began the trek up the mountain for safety on Tuesday morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;(pictures taken by Max Dunne)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-1012695729329303891?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/1012695729329303891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-jessie-weber.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/1012695729329303891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/1012695729329303891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-jessie-weber.html' title='Tsunami Story: Jessie Weber'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-169456446170055900</id><published>2013-10-04T23:10:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T07:44:52.944-11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teachers'/><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Maxwell Dunne</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tsunami Story:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Maxwell Dunne: World Teach Volunteer &amp;amp; Samoana High School Teacher&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Tuesday morning 9/29/09 at 6:48 am I was walking to the bus stop from my house at Coconut Point in Nu’uuli. I am a teacher at Samoana High School in the village of Utulei and was on my way to work. As I was walking down the road I thought I was having a muscle spasm or something in my legs since I felt a tremendous shaking. I noticed everyone was coming out of their houses and one of my friends, Jeremy, was among them. At that moment I realized I was experiencing my first earthquake. Coming from Chicago, I had never felt the earth move like that before and I was a bit anxious. We talked a minute and as I was walking away I jokingly said, “hey, isn’t this when the big tidal wave usual comes like in the movies?” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Just before 7:00 am I was lucky enough to get picked up by Asu, a member of the staff at Samoana High School, who saw me standing on the roadside waiting for the bus. I never had a chance to meet her before so we had a pleasant ride towards school getting caught up. As we rounded Faga’alu bay we noticed the ocean was receding at an incredible rate. A small boat that is usually placidly anchored in the bay was hanging on for dear life as the water was being suctioned out towards sea. The seabed was becoming more and more exposed as the water rushed out. Children at the waterside Matafao Elementary School were running and screaming inland up the nearest hill. Asu and I both knew this could only mean a tidal wave was approaching.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We pulled a U-turn and out the windows we tried to warn the other drivers about the impending danger. The first inland road was the road that leads towards the Lyndon Baines Johnson Tropical Medical Center. We, and most of the other motorists and pedestrians, made our way as far inland as possible past the hospital before the wave hit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;After a short time we went back down to the waterfront. The road was flooded, debris was strewn everywhere, and thank God there were no people caught in the destruction. For the most part the power of the wave wasn’t apparent at this particular location. Since it seemed a trivial event we planned on continuing onto school once we got the all clear from the police.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It wasn’t more than thirty minutes before the first bodies started to come in. Pickup trucks came one after another full of workers and one or two pairs of feet hanging out of the open tailgate. So many of the people that were brought in were badly cut up, bruised, and in shock. While the doctors examined the bodies we tried to get the disoriented survivors to sit and put themselves together. The wind would blow around the tattered old tarps used to cover the victims and show us just how terribly powerful this tsunami was. The first twenty bodies brought in were only from the Pago harbor area since the roads were cut off to other parts of the island by the earthquake and subsequent landslides.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The hospital tore into action and began preparing an emergency medical center and evacuating patients up the nearby hill into the residential area. I was able to find a few of my students and help move supplies and people up the hill to the emergency locations. People’s garages, front yards, and even houses became improvised treatment centers for patients already admitted. The most surreal situation was a woman going into labor in an accommodating resident’s home during the chaos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;By 11:10 am I had a chance to sit down and gather myself. There were still trucks coming in with lifeless feet dangling out of the back. Lots of people were staring off into space, others were retelling their stories, and some were mourning. It was a sight I will not forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Eventually the buses started to run and I made my way to school. The high school was not hit by the wave and the damage near it was relatively minimal with the exception of the Pago Pago Yacht Club. I went home and passed out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;9/30/2009&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The next morning the Samoana High School staff held a meeting at the powerless main campus. We simply took stock of which teachers made it and who needed what. I made my way to the Pago harbor area afterwards to see the brunt of the damage. The landscape of the harbor area is similar to a bottleneck with all of the deep harbor water being channeled and focused right towards the village. Needless to say Pago Pago was completely devastated. The wave accumulated so much focused energy that it reached several hundred yards inland. All that remained of some homes and businesses was the foundation and concrete front steps. Several ships and boats were washed over a quarter of a mile inland and were scattered throughout the town in front yards and in the streets. Vehicles were crushed and tossed about effortlessly. One car in particular was hanging out of the second story of a local business.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Most people had to wear masks to help them breathe. There was a pungent smell in some areas of sewage, rubbish, and dead fish. Chain-linked fences acted like nets for the litter caught in the wave and became murals of random pieces of refuse. Boats and SUV’s acted as house-destroying projectiles. Drainage ditches were jam packed with cars and debris from homes. Many people who never made it out of their cars ended up there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I met a few of my students there since Samoana is the local high school for this area. They gave me the tour of where their houses used to be and told me stories of who they were able to save and who they couldn’t save. They were still finding victims scattered throughout the town. I was so impressed with their maturity, toughness, and spirit. I hold so much respect for those kids. I spent the rest of the day in town visiting with as many people and students as I knew which was actually much more than I originally estimated. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I did the same thing the following day as we began to reach the end of the major clean up effort. I snapped a hundred pictures along the way on those clean up days. The pictures I took will testify more to what happened that day than I could ever put into words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In the days after I visited other villages like Leone, Amanavae, and Tula. I saw the destruction was equally terrible in these places as well. By word of mouth I heard of other villages that were also hit hard, but I cannot testify to that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I hope I remained objective enough in my description of the events as I experienced them. It was not easy to do. Classes at Samoana High School are set to resume on Monday, 10/5/2009. I will learn much more about what happened at that time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-169456446170055900?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/169456446170055900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-maxwell-dunne.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/169456446170055900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/169456446170055900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-maxwell-dunne.html' title='Tsunami Story: Maxwell Dunne'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-2418017122261209535</id><published>2009-10-09T07:25:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:26:29.199-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Nailiana</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nailuana: Samoana High School Student, 10&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: 8.0px Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Grade&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;In the morning I woke up and walk outside of my room and went in my parents room. Ant I jump on my parents bed to sleep again. Right when I close my yes I felt the bed was shaking. I yell “shit who is shaking the bed.” Nobody answer. I open my eyes nobody is there. I get up my house is shaking then I knew it was an earthquake. I call my sister name. She ran outside and hold me tight. I told my sister “something happening” I keep on repeating this two word. And it made me scared and so panic, So after the earthquake we thought everything was okay. So we both went back inside and get ready for school. My other sister came from my grandparents house and she told us “something is happening” so we know that there is something happen because, all cars were come back to our road all the way at the back where our grandparent house so we went outside and ran at our grandparents house. We ask our friends what happened and they say there a tsunami. And we were like joking around and said “I want to go look.” So yes we went on the mountain because we want to look at the ocean. We come back down. We were staring so we hide from our parent and we went in the front where store is. Me and my 2 cousin come in the front. OMG!! Our village was so different. Trash all over, so quiet, everything is wet. So we went to store so we know the power is down. So our aunty got us and she yell “get up on the car.” We pass by the hospital people were busy pulling all the sickness people all the way up to this higher place. And it was so sad that we saw all the people bringing to the hospital yelling “I don’t want to die; please help me.” I felt sad at that time. So after that four hour, when rumors said no more tsunami. So we went in the front where my uncle house. He got die from the flu not the tsunami. In Samoan people they get busy when a chief die so we did our way of life by respecting and waiting for people for their si’i (samoan word) when we were busy. It like 7:00 pm everybody yell, and scream “tsunami run.” All I did look for my brother. I didn’t found my brother but I found my little cousin so we ran together. We were so panic that time but it was nothing. The next day we woke up and we went to my uncle house in the front to finish our fa’alavelave (samoan word and when we look at the road it was so busy. Many car on the street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-2418017122261209535?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/2418017122261209535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-nailiana.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/2418017122261209535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/2418017122261209535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-nailiana.html' title='Tsunami Story: Nailiana'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-5700672092402627107</id><published>2009-10-09T07:24:00.002-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:25:17.974-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Miracle</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Miracle: Samoana High School Student, 10&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: 8.0px Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Grade, Village of Fagatogo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;On Tuesday I was at my house sleeping. When I was sleeping my bed was shaking and I thought that someone was shaking it. But it was no one. I stood up and my dad woke up and said its just a earthquake. I went outside and the whole house was shaking. The earthquake was shaking. The earthquake was shaking so hard so I ran outside the house and the house was moving. My brother ran outside with his daughter and his wife came out with her son too and my dad was the last one to come out of the house. The house might’ve fell down with us in it. I felt so scared when the ground was shaking; I couldn’t even stand still. I never thought that something like that could’ve happened and never thought that earthquake won’t shake that hard. We turned on the radio and they said tsunami is coming. Our house is at the mountain and we can see the ocean sink into the twirl and went so fast on the roads. We saw our village Fagatogo was not too floody but th ocean came inside our village. I felt that the end of the world might come. But the tsunami can’t reach our house. People that were coming to work tan to our mountain to be safe from this disaster. I never thought this kind of disaster would happen to Samoa. Because our people, Samoa, always goes to church and believe in God. But what have we done that made him so angry and damage our village.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-5700672092402627107?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/5700672092402627107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-miracle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/5700672092402627107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/5700672092402627107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-miracle.html' title='Tsunami Story: Miracle'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-3792383071194322870</id><published>2009-10-09T07:23:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:24:13.059-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Naifo</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Naifo: Samoana High School Student, 10&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font: 8.0px Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Grade, Village of Pago Pago&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Well it was September 29, 2009, I was just sleeping and then suddenly my bed starts shaking and then I woke up, and my sister came running and she told me that it’s a earthquake. My parents starts banging on out door and my dad carried my baby sister and then my mom starts hugging me and my older sister really tight and she told us that “no matter what happens she will never let go.” So I cried and then I started to get scared so we prayed and then the ground started to stop shaking so my parents said that we should stay home because something might happen but at least were safe here at home. Then 20 minutes later my cousin starts screaming saying that the ocean looks different. Then my mom starts screaming and said that we should go up the mountains so we did. Then my cousin came running and said that my aunty is down there at the house my uncle ran back downstairs but then the house collapsed just like that. My town area was filled with water and was polluted so I ran back and told my grandparents to come with us so they come so all of the people at the mountains start to sing and then this other man leaded us with a prayer. The people started to cry then we thanked God for protecting us through this whole day. Then the next day our family was doing fine because our house was okay and then we moved to our other house in K.C.. so we bought a generator and my family was doing okay. Even though my aunty died but we felt sad but on the other side we know that she is in a better place. So as of now were doing fine, our electricity is back on and my family is doing fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-3792383071194322870?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/3792383071194322870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-naifo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/3792383071194322870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/3792383071194322870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-naifo.html' title='Tsunami Story: Naifo'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-1636184063884552589</id><published>2009-10-09T07:22:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:23:34.899-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Nyrese</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nyrese: Samoana High School Student, 10th Grade, Village of Fagatogo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;It was Tuesday, September 29th, 2009. I was at home getting ready for school. My little brother (1 almost 2) was crying, he wanted to leave. I grabbed his hand and started walking outside (down, because we live on the mountain in Fagatogo) along with my father. All of a sudden, I saw the plants shaking, as if something were to explode! My older sister started yelling from inside, “Earthquake! Earthquake!” I yelled out to my dad and told him to stop, he ran back up and grabbed my little brother. The three of us ran back to my house and stood under our doorway along with my two sisters and mother, until the earthquake had stopped. It was the first earthquake I felt. For the 15 years I’ve lived, I had never felt an earthquake. It as also the strongest and longest earthquake. After the earthquake, my family and I walked down to our car. My dad dropped me and my sister off here at school, and left to take my mom. I was so scared! I went and sat in my usual spot and waited for everyone to come to school. Five minutes after, the second earthquake hit, (but it wasn’t as strong or long) and I began to panic again. Next thing I know, the police van turns into the school and speeds towards the school office, a policeman comes out with that speaker thingy, (hooked on the car) and yells - “Evacuate and get to higher grounds!” I ran towards the library to get my sister and her friends, and we ran up the tramway. I saw so many kids running up to the tramway, buses, cars trying to drive u! Kids were crying trying to get a hold of their parents, to see if they were okay! I started to tear a little after seeing the waves recede and come forward. It was sad! I was stuck up in the tramway ‘til 12:00pm. My parents finally got a hold of us, and we were fine! The police finally unblocked the roads and my parents came back to town to pick me and my sister up. It was so sad to see the little kids going home to nothing -- no parents or houses -- absolutely nothing. I just cried watching those little kids just staring and not understanding. I was so sad to hear stories about kids stealing, and not even thinking about others. There was this one article that a “palagi” guy had written. He said that throughout all these years he and his family had been here, he’s never seen stuff like this. There was a deceased lady in a store with here purse and jewelry, kids were just picking stuff off of her and taking things out of her purse! It is just so heartbreaking and sad! My heart goes out to all those with great losses! They are in my prayers. This is the lowest I’ve seen Samoan people, and very devastating. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-1636184063884552589?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/1636184063884552589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-nyrese_09.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/1636184063884552589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/1636184063884552589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-nyrese_09.html' title='Tsunami Story: Nyrese'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-7347325293656767069</id><published>2009-10-08T14:06:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T14:07:26.676-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Naiatea</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt; Naiatea: Samoana High School Student, 10th Grade, Village of Leone&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;It was early Tuesday morning when I woke up to a beautiful morning. The dawn had broken and I was up and ready for Samoana High Schools’s challenges. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;In my family, my dad leaves first with my two younger siblings, while my mother takes her time and leaves afterwards. If you get up early enough, you can catch a ride to the eastside with my dad. By the way, my parents both work on the eastside. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;This particular Tuesday morning was so beautiful. I was in my JROTC uniform and pepped up for school. I also heard the previous day that I was going to be promoted from a private to S5; therefore, my expectations were great and I was eager to enter those big gates. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;At about 6:50 am, an earthquake stuck and we were literally halfway out the door. It went on quite long and was pretty strong too. When the quake ended, my dad, two siblings, and myself headed out the door and continued on our way to school. Earthquakes had occurred before and tsunamis were usually caught by the Tongan trench. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;We left my village, Leone, with the radio on for warnings of some sort. It took a little while for a warning to be issued. We dropped of the kids, 11 and 13. and headed for the eastside. Just as we were passing Triple S gas station, the dj’s on the radio cut a song short and announced that a tsunami had hit Pago. They said that the wave was huge, and it came up to the second floor of Pago Plaza. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;When we heard the news, we turned around at Fagaima and were madly dialing my mom’s number. Worried, we picked up my siblings and raced off to the west side. My feelings were mixed. Was Mom okay? Where were they? How are my friends? Questions filled my head as we were heading towards my uncle’s house; his home was high above sea level, so we were certain that safety would be found.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;After about 20 minutes of waiting, my mom finally called. She informed us that Leone had been hit with 2 15ft waves. “Oh great! More things to worry about” I thought. I was beyond scared now. I couldn’t stand the thought of my mom and best friend (older sister) were in a danger zone. That phone cll was short and when it was done I was left in suspense again. Was there another wave? Were the high enough?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;In about 20 minutes, my grey-ish van pulled up at my uncles place. THANK GOD! My mom and sister come to us and begin telling us what had happened down in Leone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Kateama, my sister, said she was in that bathroom doing last minute touches when the lights shut off. At first, she couldn't understand why the lights went out like that,  but then she head a loud roaring, rumble. She asked my mom if she heard it and my mom paused to listen. Once they both heard it they rushed out of the house, got in the car and sped up to the three poles, the mark where Togatupu, the name of my land, begins. They stopped. Running by them was a bunch of school children yelling and crying “TSUNAMI.” They could see the water going by so they got out of the car and ran farther back towards the mountains. She saw the water, she saw the trauma, and she saw the destruction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;When Kateama was finished with her story, I was upset and speechless. She informed us that it was horrible and that relatives were missing, hurt, and dead. I felt chills all over. We could have been a part of that. My mother and my sister could have been a statistic. OGT (Oh God Thanks!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;A few more hours into the day and the news felt like it was getting worse and worse! The casualties increased by the hour, the sirens never left my ears. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The horror never left my face. The days following the disaster was about the same. I was still so sad about my village, people were still missing, and I still hadn’t heard from my friends. It may as well have been Armageddon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;My immediate family and I were staying with my dad’s first cousin in Malaeloa. I was so eager to go home although I was staying with family, it did not feel like my home. It did not feel like my bed. It felt like a house; an empty structure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;When we eventually made it down to Leone, it was heart tearing. Everything was literally torn into pieces. My village. My home. Torn into shreds. I couldn’t stand the sight and thoughts running through my mind. I quickly thought of the better things. we were alive; we were blessed. When we got to the house, mud was everywhere. A bunch of fish were laying on my once-green lawn. Even an eel was found. Brown was the color that ruled my house. We went inside the house only to find more mud and filth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The beds were soaked and muddy as well as the furniture in the living room. All that icky mud got our clothes and it took forever to get out. We spent Wednesday to Saturday cleaning our house. It is still not as clean as we want it and needs some work done on it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;This disaster scrambled my feelings and taught me a lesson. The infamous words, “Expect the unexpected,” are embossed in my mind and heart. I never thought I would be alive for a tsunami but the future always changes and all we can do is live the life given to us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Lately, since school started, I have been occupied by my friends so O don not think of my village/home very often. I am happier at school and I’m just patient about my home. I would rather be in Leone but my current location, with my family, is just fine :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-7347325293656767069?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/7347325293656767069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-naiatea.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/7347325293656767069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/7347325293656767069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-naiatea.html' title='Tsunami Story: Naiatea'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-7974977545807204471</id><published>2009-10-08T13:20:00.002-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T13:21:59.656-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Myrna</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Myrna: Samoana High School Student, 10th Grade, Village of Aua&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;It was a beautiful morning, I woke up at 5:30 to attend seminary (scripture study). It finished at 6:30 and when I came out of the chapel, it felt pretty cold that was different. I walked home and then I cleaned the house, everybody was there except for my mom, she was at work. It was past 7;30 and I was ironing my JROTC uniform and then everything started to shake. I ran on the road and looked around. IT was amazing. Everything were shaking, the cars, floors were cracking, and things were falling. All of a sudden the mountain collapsed, lucky thing I wasn’t underneath the mountain. Everything started to stop shaking. Honestly, I thought it was cool because it was the only earthquake that I felt and it was hella strong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;After the earthquake, everything was quiet and then my dad turned on the radio. There was nothing just the same morning talofas they were doing. After a little while, cars were passing my house speedily. Since my house in Aua is near a mountain, so it was safe. I was still in the room putting on my uniform and then my dad said, pack everything get on the car. Me and my sisters rushed we got anything we could grab. Then my uncle passed by and said, the waves already passed his house, but my uncle’s house is just 5 houses away. We got in the car and my grandma as still in the house, she was so worried because my mom was at work. I jumped into my uncle’s  school bus, I was scared as hell, I thought I’m going to die. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;An elementary school in Aua got evacuated, all these poor young children were running up the mountain. So our school bus stopped, I panicked a lot and started throwing kids in the bus. I went to last sit in the back and looked out for the wave. I saw my car pass by and started screaming, uncle its coming, go already. Then our bus went up all these children were in the bus crying. I stood up and try and comfort some. Most of the kids were worried about their parents and were screaming as if its the end of the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Our bus stopped we had to continue on foot, because the bus will cause traffic to all the cars going up the mountain. When I got up I saw my dad and I felt, everything is fine. So I stood there helping kids to walk safely up the mountain and keep them away from the road. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;When everybody got up safely near my aunty’s house, my dad (bishop) said of few encouragements to the kids to don’t worry. Many children looked hopeless, they were crying, and some tried to comfort others. We sang songs and said a prayer. After all the commotion, people from up the mountain started to go up and down the mountain in search for family members.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I just sat up in the mountain thinking of the tsunami. I could hear every car’s radio but I didn’t quite hear what they were saying. People were calm, trying to adjust to this new routine. I just wandered everywhere looking for friends and people who needed help. Many parents were still looking for their children...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I helped a lady look for her daughter. We walked all the way to the top of the mountain. On our way I saw many people at the side of the road just sitting there. Some people were looking down, but I didn’t pay no attention because I know their safe. When we got up to the top there were a lot of people there. Cars were parking on the other lane leaving the other lane for the cars. I saw Afono Elementary there and many people from everywhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I overheard a lady saying, if it weren’t for the kids in Afono the people that lived there could’ve died. When I found the lady’s daughter, I took her to her mother. They were so happy to see each other. But I remembered that my mom wasn’t home yet. I was worried but deep down I know she was safe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;When I came back down, I heard on the radio that not only Am. Samoa was hit even Samoa. It said, that there were many children that were taken by the wave. Many houses were damaged and Samoa was hit pretty badly. After a few hours of sitting, walking, and laughing, the radio finally said, “All the warnings issued are cancelled.” I was so happy! When I got home I was shocked to see my mom home safe and sound. We ate sandwich with chips and I was off to bed. I was so happy my house wasn’t wrecked or flooded. My sisters went to the front to clean my aunty and uncle’s place that were flooded by the tsunami.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Surprisingly, I got woke up by my sister! She said there was another earthquake and we needed to evacuate. So we took everything in the car but I really paid attention to what she said. The evening passed by so slow. I was so devastated because the power was off and everything is going to be dark. I was so pissed!!! Good thing my family had food and we had a big light so that we could see. We also had batteries and we inserted the radio. We found out that we have 20 deaths already. I went for a ride around and it didn’t look good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Everywhere looked trashed, many houses collapsed. Boats were everywhere, and the houses and stores that were there were all gone, or in the other place. It was heartbroken to see all of this mess! The surrounding felt so sad and dust were everywhere. Cars were either smashed or found in people’s houses. I felt sorry for everybody that lost everything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;When I got home it was dark. I took a shower and ate dinner. People were still up in the mountain because they think something was going to happen. I didn’t sleep that whole night but I prayed for our people and everybody that lost everything in the wave. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The next day, stories starts flying around about deaths and everything that had happened. I was so grateful that my house wasn’t harmed and my family was safe. Sad to find out that some of my loved ones were caught in the tsunami. Even though we were hit I’m so thankful I’m safe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-7974977545807204471?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/7974977545807204471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-myrna.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/7974977545807204471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/7974977545807204471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-myrna.html' title='Tsunami Story: Myrna'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-7681997480016196563</id><published>2009-10-08T12:41:00.002-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T12:46:50.376-11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teachers'/><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Steve</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Steve Atwell: World Teach Volunteer, Elementary School Teacher, Village of Vatia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 16.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;It’s been an interesting two days here in American Samoa. I spent a good portion of the day remarking how strange it is to be in such a small portion of the world that is suddenly rocketed to international recognition, especially given the circumstance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;For the past two weeks, I’ve been working on a unit on plate tectonics with my science classes. For my fifth graders, we have been talking about volcanoes, but for seventh and eighth, we have been discussing earthquakes and tsunamis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Yesterday morning, I was sitting in my living room, eating a bowl of LIFE cereal on our surfboard, turned make-shift table, and looking over the answers to an earthquake crossword puzzle that I had given to my students the previous day. I started for feel low vibrations shake the house. The bus driver lives behind our house and usually leaves for work about this time and I assumed that he had the bass turned up unusually loud this morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;As the vibrations continued and intensified, I looked down at my worksheet, over at my textbook and realized that this was too forceful to coming from the bus’ subwoofer. I went to the front door and opened it to look out into the yard. I watched some high school kids stop in the street and look around the village. My roommate, Alex, came out of the bathroom and stood in the doorway as we watched our neighbors dog stammer around the front yard both confused and scared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;As the earthquake continued to shake the house, we watched as the papers on our table began to slide to the floor, water in our dish basic sloshed from side to side and a plastic vase fell off the shelf and onto the floor. The earthquake lasted for what felt like a minute, and then things settled back to normal. Not sure what to make of things, Alex headed to school and I continued to ready myself for the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I had just put on my uniform when Alex returned triumphantly to the house to inform me that school had been cancelled. He had been informed by one of the student teachers that school was cancelled due to the earthquake. Not sure what to do and failing to recognize the full magnitude of the situation, we watched from the front door as students streamed down the street and back into their houses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;About five minutes later, the town elders began to ring the bells and the call was echoed throughout the village. Alex and I walked to the front yard and began to sense a degree of panic in the air. The pre-kindergarten teacher yelled from her front yard that we were in danger and needed to get to higher ground. At this point, we began to hear an audible slurping sound and watched as the water level in the bay in front of our house began to go down. We scuttled to pack our belongings not sure of what to expect – lap top, iPod, camera, electric toothbrush. Alex ran out the door toward a pick-up truck about 200 feet down the street and I grabbed a fistful of T-shirts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I stepped from the front porch – the slurping sound had become nearly deafening – and people screamed from the back of the truck to run as fast as I could. I slammed the front door and ran full speed for the truck – still clutching the t-shirts in one hand. I got to the truck and hoisted myself headfirst into its bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The driver accelerated out of town as a wave began to rush against the sea wall and cover the road behind us. As we raced up the mountain, we looked over our shoulders to see the road fully submerged and the water beginning to spill into our front yard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;We got to the top of the mountain and found half the village perched on top and looking down over the bay. Together, we spent the morning watching the bay drain and swell and wondering what was left of our village.  With limited access to news information, misinformation on the mountain ran rampant with conflicting stories and a wide range of reports regarding the degree of the destruction in our village. There were reports of widespread damage, that the earthquake had destroyed Hawaii, and that there might be impending food shortages. However, despite the news, we felt comforted seeing the smiling faces of our students and hoping that the ones we didn’t see had made it to higher ground elsewhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;By lunchtime, Alex and I were parched and needed food. We hiked to the next village up the mountain and watched as 25 cases of SPAM, 100 loaves of bread, bag after bag of chips, and countless bottles of water were being loaded into pick-up trucks. We were informed that the Tsunami had hit both sides of the island – our side had received less of the damage – and that there were approximately 1000 people taking refuge in the mountains.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;This was the first time we were able to recognize the scope of the disaster. We were informed that 10 people had been killed in Pago Pago and that nearly all of the territories capital had been flattened. Worst yet, there were reports that a larger wave had yet to arrive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Upon hearing the news, we decided to return to the mountain top with the rest of village and await word that it was safe to return home. During this time, I borrowed Alex’s cell phone – I had left mine on the table – and finally got a signal to call my sister in Hawaii and my mom back in Virginia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;We spent the afternoon, eating Oreo’s and playing with the kids of our village, before returning home to survey the damage. In the end, we were very lucky and damage was limited to a muddy living room and standing water in our kitchen. Pago Pago had is much worse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Without power or potable drinking water, we sat on the front steps of our neighbor’s house and caught our breath after a long day and were sitting there when the pulled up. I spoke with one of the volunteers who lived further inland and found out that she still had electricity and running water. We caught a ride with our neighbors and headed in that direction. Having heard of total destruction in Pago Pago, we braced ourselves for the worst.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;We drove through town and saw mangled cars, overturned buses, torn apart buildings, stone walls reduced to rubble, fences shredded and mangled soccer goals. Numerous small ships had been pushed hundreds of feet inland. Whole stores were gutted, cars pushed horizontally up against buildings, and one drainage ditch was filled with the scraps of dismantled cars. We watched people load bags and bags of buns from the local McDonalds- it had been boarded up – and we stared in awe a forklift slowly made its way down the street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Alex and I spent the night in relative comfort last night and will shortly begin the trek back through Pago Pago to help repair our village, comfort our students and find ways we can help the clean-up effort in the coming weeks. It was quite a humbling day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34);  font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-7681997480016196563?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/7681997480016196563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-steve.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/7681997480016196563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/7681997480016196563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-steve.html' title='Tsunami Story: Steve'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-472093912819139389</id><published>2009-10-08T12:06:00.001-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T12:06:38.526-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Paisha</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Paisha : Samoana High School Student, 10th Grade, Village of Pago Pago&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;It was a bright day with no fain falling down, all my siblings were awake and getting ready for work. As ironing my uniform an earthquake got my whole worried and went out of the house. I life in a two story house and from on top we watched the ocean backed up leaving only the rocks and ground. Then it hit back towards the land and we all started to panic because my uncle was on his way to work and my mom was already down the road waiting for her ride to the Aua school. I ran back down for her and she was already walking up with my uncle coming too. We got back home and started packing our stuffs and helped my grandma out by carrying her into the car. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;We all went on top of the mountain where my other uncle stays at and dropped my grandma there and then we came walking back down to watch where the tsunami is going to reach at. Well, we couldn’t go back down our road and were weren’t that panic because each and every single family member of mine were all there together that day. I heard cars crashing together and big waves tearing houses one by one. When it was done were weren’t still allowed to go down, but we didn’t listen but we went down to look. My village was a mess!! The road was awful and there was a lot of dust. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Then one of my boy cousins came up to our house crying to my uncle because his mom, little sister, babysitter, and himself were affected by the tsunami. While crying he told his dad about him finding my aunts body next to the road where it happened an loosing his little sister while the babysitter was calling him for help. It was a sad moment for all of us especially my uncle and my other cousin that were with us. Even though the road was blocked with ruined cars, trucks, and mud, we walked all the way to the east side at the end of Pago for my aunty’s body.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Right when we got there my aunty’s body was laying inside another family’s house. We started crying and saying things trying to calm ourselves down, but we couldn’t stop. My aunty was covered with mud and she was all cold up and starting to turn purple. All the crying came to an end that time and we started to go look for my little cousins body. We searched the whole place where it happened, but still no sign. Our hearts were filled with sadness and heartbroken that day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The family that helped carry up my aunty called the ambulance and they came right when the road was cleared to take her to the hospital. We went back searching again and again, but still no sigh :( Later on that day all of my boy cousins along with my brothers came home with packages of sodas, juice, chips, detergents for laundry, and other stuffs from inside the stores that were taken by the tsunami. In the afternoon we went to the police station to claim that only my little cousin is still missing, then we came back home and had a family gathering in front of my grandpas grave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The next day we went down the road and all the village people were helping out on cleaning our village. It was also a bright day and with no signs of raining. We went back home and my boy cousin (whose mom and little sister died) came running to his dad that he found his sisters body at the back of the market. My uncle cried thank our heavenly father for helping at finding my cousin. My boy cousin said she was still wearing her white top, blue blouse and her school bag getting ready to go to school :( It brought us more sorrow and pain, but happiness because we have her body.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The following day we helped out on cleaning and each day I went riding to Amanave, Onenoa, and Fagasa. Man I felt sorry for the family who had lost their house and their loved ones :( Oh..... what a tragedy!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-472093912819139389?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/472093912819139389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-paisha.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/472093912819139389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/472093912819139389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-paisha.html' title='Tsunami Story: Paisha'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-9210865009170162300</id><published>2009-10-08T12:03:00.001-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T12:49:54.252-11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teachers'/><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Raj</title><content type='html'>&lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Raj Borsellino: World Teach Volunteer, Leone High School Teacher, Village of Leone&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The Day I'll Never Forget: Tuesday, September 29th, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I’ve heard from a lot of people today who want to make sure that I’m okay following the earthquake and tsunami in American Samoa today. So I figured I’d tell my story. This was pretty hastily written, so cut me some slack.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;A little bit of background: I graduated from college in May and decided to hold off on going straight to law school. After the tragedies that I’ve had to deal with during the last few years, I decided that I needed to get away from the hustle and bustle of my normal life. So me and Kelly, my girlfriend of four years, found a program called WorldTeach that would allow us to work as abroad volunteer full-time teachers. We decided to put our lives on hold, pack up our belongings, and move to American Samoa, a tiny island in the South Pacific, where we would teach public school for a year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I’ve been in American Samoa for a little more than two months and I love it. I teach High School English in a small, tightly-knit village called Leone. It’s a deeply-religious community with an incredibly strong work ethic. Six days a week, everyone works tirelessly. They attend work or school, come home and clean the house do their other chores, and prepare for the next day. On Sundays, the entire village shuts down and everyone attends church, which is followed by a big feast called an umu. Everyone knows your name and waves at you when you walk by. I have a hundred and fifty students who come through my classroom every single day, but as an American living in a small Samoan village, it’s impossible to remain anonymous around here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Flash forward to this morning, September 29th, the thirty-sixth day of the school year. I woke up at 6:47. Kelly came into the bedroom and jumped on me until I finally got out of bed. I wasn’t particularly excited about yet another school day, but I knew that I didn’t have much of a choice. As soon as I stood up and put on my glasses, I began to hear a loud noise and feel the ground shake. It’s the type of feeling that you might get when there’s an extremely powerful windstorm that rattles your house. But it kept getting worse. I had never been in an earthquake before, but it wasn’t difficult to tell that this was one. To be honest, I really had no clue what to do when I realized that I was in the middle of an earthquake. Neither did Kelly or Tanne, our other housemate. First we sat in the living room and ducked down, covering our heads. But then we got worried that the house would collapse, so we decided to go outside. As soon as we got out, we heard someone yelling something in Samoan at us, and since we couldn’t understand it, we assumed that they were telling us to go back inside. So we did. We spent the rest of the earthquake standing in doorways and hoping that nothing fell on us. About two minutes after it started, the earthquake was over. We looked around the house and surveyed the damage: a large mirror was broken in our bedroom, but other than that, everything was fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Since I had never been in an earthquake before, I had no idea that this was an abnormally large one. I assumed that we would go through the rest of the day as normal and maybe I’d have an interesting story to tell to my friends back home. Tanne caught a bus to school while Kelly and I finished up getting ready and then headed out for another day. When we walked out, there was a mass exodus of kids walking in the opposite direction. They told us that school was cancelled because of the earthquake. I called my family to let them know that I was okay, assuming there might be some minor blip on the news about a small earthquake in the South Pacific. I was mostly just excited that I had the day off from school. I had no idea that the earthquake was powerful enough to trigger a tsunami, nor did I even begin to consider that lives may be at risk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Kelly and I stayed in the house for a while, even though our electricity and water had gone out. After a few minutes we looked outside and saw droves of schoolchildren and cars going inland. We thought that we would be okay where we were, so we stayed back. But then we found out from some kids walking by that a tidal wave had struck a few blocks from us and there was possibly another one on the way. A friend of a friend decided that we weren’t safe where we were, so he got in his truck and drove halfway across the island to pick us up. We packed up our belongings and headed to the top of one of the large mountains on the island. The further we got up the mountain, the more people we began to see. There were thousands of people on the side of the road, many of whom had thrown whatever they could grab into their suitcases and headed as far inland as possible. I noticed a lot of my students along the way, although they didn’t seem as happy and cheerful as usual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Eventually, the warning for the second tsunami was called off and we were allowed to go back home. It was the middle of the day at that point and I still didn’t realize how bad of a disaster this had been. I went back home and decided to call my family back home to let them know that I was safe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;In the afternoon I was feeling restless and curious, so I decided to go into the center of my village, which was a short walk towards the beach. I’ll never forget the scene that I saw there. It was an absolute disaster area. There were completely empty spaces where houses used to be. Heaps of concrete and brick and tin piled all over the area. Trophies and family photos and children’s toys were strewn all about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;While I was walking I ran into Miracle, one of my sophomore students who always a smile on his face. Miracle is the type of student every teacher loves to have: he comes to class on time, always does his homework, participates in discussions, and always tells a good joke when the class needs one. He’s also a popular kid and one of the stars on the JV football team. But when I saw him today, his smile was gone. So were his house and all of his belongings. He had been home when the tsunami struck, and the wave smashed him through the window and out of his house. He only survived because he was able to hold onto his older sister the entire time the wave came crashing in. Considering what could have happened, he was actually quite lucky: he emerged with some bad cuts on his legs, a bloody lip, and scratches all over his chest. But everything in his house was gone. He lost an uncle. His sister had both of her legs crushed. And even though it was ten hours after the tsunami struck, his best friend (another one of my students) was still missing. He feared the worst.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;As I walked around, I kept hearing more stories of lives that had been lost. There was the little girl who was swept out to sea, the boy who was crushed against the concrete wall, the old woman who didn’t even survive the earthquake. There were already six confirmed deaths in my village, but there are at least ten others who are missing and more than likely didn’t survive. Most of the deceased haven’t been named yet, but I can guarantee that some of them go to the schools where Kelly and I teach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The schedule from here is unclear. For my friend Sarah, whose entire school was destroyed, it’ll be months before things can be cleared out and rebuilt. Kelly and I made it out relatively lucky: there was no damage to our house from the earthquake, and we were far enough inland that the tsunami didn’t reach us. There was no structural damage at&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;our schools.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;We’re supposed to report to school at 8:00 tomorrow morning, where we’ll have an assembly and then be dismissed for the day. But I can’t even imagine walking to school tomorrow morning and finding out which of my students didn’t make it. The young kids who woke up this morning hopeful and excited for another school day and were killed by a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;natural disaster that none of us can even begin to fathom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I woke up this morning wondering how I was going to keep my hundred and fifty kids entertained and excited for the day. But I go to bed wondering how I, as an English teacher, can convince these children not to give up hope when they’ve lost their homes, their family members, and their fellow classmates. Even now, sixteen hours after that earthquake struck, I can still feel the tremors in my head and throughout my body. And I have a feeling that they’ll never leave me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Tsunami: The Aftermath: Sunday, October 4th, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;It’s amazing how the last six days play out in my head. The earthquake and tsunami of Tuesday morning are still as crisp and clear as ever: the shock, the terror, and the destruction. But everything after that remains an amorphous blur. It’s all running together. I’ll try to put the events of the last few days in chronological order, although it’s not easy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;When I walked into town on Tuesday afternoon, the day the tsunami struck, I took some pictures of the damage to post on Facebook so everyone back home could see what had happened. Before I went to bed that night, I sent in a few pictures of the destruction to Reuters and the Associated Press since they both needed photos. Wednesday morning was a shocker. I woke up and checked Google news and the New York Times, as I do every morning. But on Wednesday, all of the news stories centered on my island, particularly my village. And even more stunning, the pictures that I had taken and sent in were on the front pages of all of these websites. They were in countless different languages in hundreds of different newspapers and websites around the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Twenty-four hours can be a lifetime. On Tuesday I was getting ready for another school day in my small town in my tiny-dot-on-the-map island, and the next morning my devastated village was the center of the entire world. It was wonderful to get kind letters from so many people that I haven’t talked to in a long time, but of course it was under such tragic circumstances.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;The recovery efforts here have been getting stronger by the day, although they’re incredibly frustrating. On Tuesday, everyone was still in shock. On Wednesday and Thursday, rescue teams were still looking for bodies so there wasn’t much work for anyone else to do. But now, six days after the tsunami struck, I still can’t believe how little work there has been for us to do here. Some of the other American teachers here have spent countless hours sitting in the waiting room at the local Red Cross chapter trying to find something that they can help with. Most of them ended up going home hopeless and dejected. Kelly and I walked through the village again and again to see if there was anything we could do, mostly coming up empty-handed. A lot of the folks who had lost their homes weren’t allowed to begin tearing anything down until FEMA came in and took pictures of the wreckage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;That’s not to say that we haven’t been blessed with loads of help from the rest of the world. The US has sent in folks from AmeriCorps, the Red Cross, the military, and FEMA, along with countless other organizations. They all seem to know what they’re doing, but they don’t seem to rely very much on volunteers from within the community. As bad as things were on Tuesday, the frustration of living and working here and not being able to help out as much as possible has made things here even more difficult during the last few days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;On Friday, after deciding that we were tired of waiting for instructions, Kelly and I put on our gloves and ventured out into the shallow part of the ocean to start picking up the hundreds of pieces of debris that was there. There was everything from washing machines to microwaves to children’s toys to clothing to shoes to pots and pans. There were huge pieces of sheet metal that used to be the roofs of people’s homes. Within an hour, there were more than a dozen of us racing against the incoming tide and sorting through the trash to put it in a giant pile to burn. It was so painful to watch those tattered clothes and broken appliances go up in flames. People had spent years and years saving up for some of these things, but it was all washed way while folks were struggling mercilessly to hang onto their lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;Amazingly, it appears as though all of the kids at my high school survived. Scores of them are now homeless and some even lost siblings and parents, but somehow the students all made it. Unfortunately, Kelly’s school (the elementary school) was not so lucky. One of her fellow teachers died, as did several students. Perhaps most tragic was the first grader who got to school early on Tuesday and was told to go back home after the earthquake hit. The tsunami struck during his walk home and his body still hasn’t been recovered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;One of the stories that hit closest to home was about Tita, the young teacher who shares a fourth-grade classroom with Kelly. When Kelly first arrived at school in early August, Tita was the one person who made sure everything was okay. She brought us movies and food and gave us rides to and from school. A few days before the tsunami hit, she stopped by our house to give us a brand new printer so we could make worksheets for our students. Tita’s house was directly in the tsunami’s line of fire, and although she survived, she lost absolutely everything. Her live-in babysitter was killed. Her house was in tatters. She couldn’t even begin cleaning up the wreckage two days later because FEMA needed pictures of her destroyed house and her camera was lost in the tsunami.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;We have our first day back at school tomorrow, and I’m still not completely sure how to approach the tragedy with my students. We can’t just go back to learning about theme and characterization as if nothing happened. I thought about spending the first few days just talking as a class about what everyone had to go through. But aside from the notes they write to me in their journals, many of the students here are uncomfortable talking about anything related to their personal lives. It’s not easy to get anyone to open up about something so tragic and so personal, much less teenagers who are already struggling to come into their own. I also considered having my students write grant letters to corporations and foundations in the United States to ask for donations. But it may come across as somewhat demeaning to make these kids pour their hearts out to anonymous, nameless donors whose mercy they’re being forced to depend on. Maybe I’ll just give the kids word searches and let them talk amongst themselves for a day or two so the transition will be easier. I really don’t know what to do. If anyone has any ideas, I’d love to hear them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p color="#222222" style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;This theme of uncertainty has been ringing in my head over and over during the last few days. Through the first seven weeks of school, everything here seemed so routine. I was finally starting to get a sense of the island and the culture. I felt like an outsider who was starting to be let in. Leone was becoming my village. And now, without warning, we’re all thrown into a much more intense situation, one that none of us knows how to deal with. Unlike the struggle of adapting to a new village and a new culture, this is a struggle the entire island is facing. Our students see us teachers as leaders and we’re supposed to provide certainty and confidence in times like this. It’s not a simple task.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica;  min-height: 14.0pxcolor:#222222;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; "&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;One last thing: a lot of kind folks back in the states have been writing to ask if there’s anything they can do to help. To be honest, I’m not completely sure yet. I know that we'll need school supplies (backpacks, pencils and pens, notebooks), but I’ll get a much better sense of where my students’ lives stand when we return to school tomorrow. But I can assure you that absolutely anything will help, whether it’s clothing, cookware, electronics, etc. There are so many people who are left with absolutely nothing. It’s not going to be an easy recovery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(34, 34, 34);  font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-9210865009170162300?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/9210865009170162300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-raj_08.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/9210865009170162300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/9210865009170162300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-raj_08.html' title='Tsunami Story: Raj'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-7184853640584923573</id><published>2009-10-08T10:43:00.001-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T10:43:52.054-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Nate</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nate: Samoana High School Student, 10th Grade, Village of Fagatogo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;What happened was all of the people in Samoa heard the earthquake shaking and they even saw the ocean going down in the surface so when the quake stopped shaking the wave came in our village and suddenly it went to Pago Pago and the people in the store buying food didn't see was coming and it came with no nose, it just came and too a lot of house, food, cars, and even our lost ones that are steal missing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;My feeling about this is the little kids that lost their lives so quick and not even ready to go to the light but it was sad because the wave came with no warning so that people can tell their love ones to stay home and wait when the tsunami is finish. but it was sad for those who didn’t meant to die. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The next day I gone to Pago. It was sad. there was nothing only trash was everywhere no house no store but boat on the surface and even cars that are upside down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-7184853640584923573?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/7184853640584923573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-nate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/7184853640584923573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/7184853640584923573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-nate.html' title='Tsunami Story: Nate'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-4745847850914757644</id><published>2009-10-08T10:42:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T10:43:15.046-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Maryann</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Maryann: Samoana High School Student, 10th Grade&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Well my story:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I don’t know where to start- okay- when I was at home I was ready for school, I felt something was trembling and the first thing that was just about bobbed in my mind is &gt;&gt;earthquake&lt;&lt;&gt;&gt;tsunami&lt;&lt;&gt;&gt;again&lt;&lt;  I stop the bus and I went there, but at that day I realize that that is just a wake up call for us but then our car came and my sister told me to hop on the car so we went straight on top of the mountain. and then later the next day something seems like nothing happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-4745847850914757644?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/4745847850914757644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-maryann.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/4745847850914757644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/4745847850914757644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-maryann.html' title='Tsunami Story: Maryann'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-4054929461820133710</id><published>2009-10-08T10:41:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T10:42:26.426-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Orisse</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Orisse : Samoana High School Student, 10th Grade, Village of Leone&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;On September 29, 2009 a tsunami attacked American Samoa. On this day I was on my way to school, so my mom and I stopped to the store to buy something to eat for breakfast. Right when we parked the car we felt an earthquake. I didn’t notice it was an earthquake until I saw some few people looking scared and I saw trees and the gound even our car shaking. The mountains were even collapsing and so right after the earthquake was finished, my mom said she’s not sure if we should go to school, but we should drop her off to work, so it was a deal. So were were on our way to Utulei to drop my mom off, there was a big traffic in Faganeanea, and so my mom changed her mind and thought we should go back and go straight home. As we turned to go back home I saw the ocean acting up. It was like the ocean was sucked up all the way in the back. So, I felt pretty scared. We were on our way home until my mom contact the police station and they said, we should go some where high, because the waves are coming. That was when we arrived in Pavaia’i. We tried calling my dad and my sister, but they didn’t pick up the phone, so we drove really fast until we got to Leone. We were on a hill and as I looked down the water was everywhere. It was like the houses were covered with water. I was so afraid and totally scared. I started panicking and I rushed my mom to call my dad and see if they are okay because, the land was all covered up. So my mom told my brother-in-law to go look for my sister, so he ran. I cried and cried. I was worried not knowing if my dad and my sister is okay. My mom and I waited for a few minutes, and then there was my sister. She was all wet and scared. She was with her husband. My dad went back to help some few people that was injured. I was scared. I thought the world is now coming to an end, but with hope and faith in our heavenly father, I know he will protect us and with those that lost their lives ‘cause of the tsunami. I hope they rest in peace for this very day will always be remembered what have occurred and witnessed on this tsunami day. There has been a child, she’s probably 5 years old, that had died, and a boy about 6 years old and we’re still searching for his body. All my love and condolence rest with those families that had a very serious damage with their houses and to those that had lost the love ones in the family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-4054929461820133710?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/4054929461820133710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-orisse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/4054929461820133710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/4054929461820133710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-orisse.html' title='Tsunami Story: Orisse'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-3031460169559781311</id><published>2009-10-05T20:30:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T20:31:51.590-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Brown</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Brown : Samoana High School Student, 10th Grade, Village of Utulei&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Well our island got attacked by a the earthquake and then tsunami, and it destroy everything on land. It makes me feel sad for those who lost their home and lost love one, but me I most my aunty at Pago Pago. I almost cried that day and then it was next day and they day was like. All people all were acting like there was nothing happened and I like that. They care that they am ok. But the only thing that make me feel bad that day was my aunty, we found her body under the house and we brig her body out of their house and put her at the hospital and we’re waiting for the day for her funeral. the end. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-3031460169559781311?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/3031460169559781311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-brown.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/3031460169559781311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/3031460169559781311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-brown.html' title='Tsunami Story: Brown'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-1505326687227923729</id><published>2009-10-05T16:58:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T16:59:03.720-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Christopher</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Christopher: Samoana High School Student, 9th Grade, Village of Faga’alu&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;On Tuesday I was at the hospital helping doctors, nurses, and EMS people. We were pushing illness people from down the hospital through the top of the mountain. What I felt on that day was very uncomfortable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Me and this guy, he was a doctor, we had this treatment for this men, but we were his best, but soon we found out this mad was dead. We had three people dead. Our shirts, shorts, and our faces and hands were filled with the blood of these people. Our village Faga’alu was the hope for all this people came for help, we tried our best to feed and prepare for other things for them. The most horrible thing I saw was this one woman, she gave birth up the mountain. suddenly she said thanks to us all for helping and her baby name was Faga’alu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-1505326687227923729?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/1505326687227923729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-christopher.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/1505326687227923729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/1505326687227923729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-christopher.html' title='Tsunami Story: Christopher'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-3688049496777716088</id><published>2009-10-05T16:50:00.001-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T16:54:49.545-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Alfred</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Alfred: Samoana High School Student, 11th Grade, Village of Aua&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;On Tuesday September 29 I was sleeping that time when the earthquake shaking and my mom was telling to me and I was ran outside and my body was very shaking and my house was so shaking and I see up to the mountain it was falling down with rocks and after the earthquake until 5 minutes the ocean was coming together and they pop up and all the things from the ocean was came from tsunami and I went up to my neighbors house and looking from the waves and all the peoples from Aua went up to the road that go to Afono &amp;amp; Vatia and also our elementary school all the kids where going on the mountain and I ran to help for the kids and people for my village and my car was hit by tsunami and there was nothing broken just wet and trash was stick to the car and my family was very lucky from the tsunami. I love for the people that lost their members and the people and their loves. Good luck American Samoa and God Bless American Samoa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-3688049496777716088?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/3688049496777716088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-alfred_05.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/3688049496777716088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/3688049496777716088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-alfred_05.html' title='Tsunami Story: Alfred'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-5376791337377390554</id><published>2009-10-05T16:42:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T16:46:46.313-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Julio</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Julio: Samoana High School Student, 10th Grade, Village of Nu’uuli&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Sept 29 2009 the tsunami was coming I was sleeping I don’t know about the tsunami. My friends told me it was a huge wave come to Pago Pago and hit houses and cars/ Some people died in the tsunami. I thank God for giving us a life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-5376791337377390554?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/5376791337377390554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-julio.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/5376791337377390554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/5376791337377390554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-julio.html' title='Tsunami Story: Julio'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-7657189555342204135</id><published>2009-10-05T16:34:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T16:35:03.048-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: David</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;David: Samoana High School Student, 9th Grade, Village of Faga’alu&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;In the time that the tsunami came I did not know because I was coming in that morning I was feeling something that shaking then I think is not something happen, and then I was walk in the office I was feeling again some thing that shaking that come outside the office and people said that run tsunami is coming. I said “ok,” and I run up to the mountain I was coming back down because I was come to see where my brother, then I ran back up my brother is standing up the faleo’o. Then I was feel that I want to go to my family because I was feeling that something happen. And I was up there I was looking down over our school I was see a road is wet and a lot of people that need help and lot of car that broken that time I was cry because I see down the road lot of people that running to see their family or their kid. And the other thing than happening when earthquake and tsunami coming I see lot of people die, people that looking for their family, and people that their house is lost, and their clothes and some of their car - are things that important but it is lost. And the other thing in following day our family talking to go help people that no house and no clothes, and then we go at Leone we havig lot of people that we help to give their food and give clothes. That is the only thing I do for people that need help. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-7657189555342204135?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/7657189555342204135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-david.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/7657189555342204135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/7657189555342204135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-david.html' title='Tsunami Story: David'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-6234099639699409749</id><published>2009-10-05T16:33:00.001-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T16:33:46.883-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Motuga</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Motuga: Samoana High School Student, 12th Grade, Village of Pago Pago&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;On the day the tsunami came I was still sleep the earthquake woke me up and when I got up my house crumbled and I never experienced something like this. The earthquake is strong and long it takes 5 to 15 second until the earthquake stop. I ran down the street to see if there are any unusual things happen in the ocean. When I got there in Pago Pago you can see rocks and coral and on the other side there are two big whirl pool. I started feel scared because I never see any whirl pool in my life before. When the whirl pool stop thats where the first wave came. It washed boats, ship, and sailing boats on the shore, people started crying and some of them start calling their families if they are okay. The following day I thought only Pago Pago is damage but when I turn on the radio some village damage badly, some people lost their families, some people lost their house and it makes me feel sad for them. This is the first time a tsunami came in Am. Samoa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-6234099639699409749?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/6234099639699409749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-motuga.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/6234099639699409749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/6234099639699409749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-motuga.html' title='Tsunami Story: Motuga'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-891943136081253892</id><published>2009-10-05T15:59:00.003-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T16:32:06.787-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Tenesio</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tenesio: Samoana High School Student, 11th Grade, Village of Afono&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;My story is about the tsunami that break all the houses in Samoa. I was on the school bus when the earthquake shaked. We didn’t feel the earthquake because the bus was too fast. When the time we came to school, we came to our turf . We hear the bell ringing and then Simon ran out and said to us, run up the tramway the tsunami coming. Then we ran up upstairs. The time we stand up on the top of the tramway we look at the ocean it seemed bad. Many kid crying and call their family and cry on the phone. I feel scared because my family were sleeping and they didnt know the tsunami warning. Many kid were get together and sing their song and pray to god for forgiveness. After we listen tot eh person on the radio that says the warning is finished. Then me and friend walked down and go to the store and buy food for healthy. After we eat we went to Fagatogo and come away to Pago Pago and see my family and their hurt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-891943136081253892?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/891943136081253892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-tenesio.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/891943136081253892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/891943136081253892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-tenesio.html' title='Tsunami Story: Tenesio'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-4282488479078226228</id><published>2009-10-05T15:58:00.002-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T16:30:45.704-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Doug</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tsunami Story:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Doug: Samoana High School Student, 11th Grade, Village of Faga'alu&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Where was I? I was in my car dropping of my mother. After the earthquake it seemed like an ordinary day although my mother worked for the Department of Homeland Security and has outreach programs which tell people to evacuate when a earthquake of that kind of magnitude happens. So were at the intersection entering into the main road, listening to the radio. The station said they got a call from NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association) saying that there are no waves from any direction. The as we were turning to the main road the water across the bay started to come over the rock wall and out the road. So we flip a u-turn and head straight home. We lived in the Deep Valley, we also live behind the hospital, to ONLY hospital on the island. So as we are driving my parents tell me to take the care up the road, because they went to help evacuate patients from the hospital. I took the car locked it, got my sister, and walked down the road. It may sound like a stupid idea, but the hospital needed all the help it can get. We went down, I was carrying supplies up the mountain with some of my village boys. I walked outside of the ER with a box of supplies, and at least 2 cars pull up with dead bodies piled in the back and as they pull up the nurses sigh and say to themselves “Another DOA.” I thought to myself what does DOA mean. Walking up thinking to myself Dead On Arrival. Now from the extent of the damage of my village I didn’t think it was that bad until I saw the bodies coming like crazy...After a few hours when everything cooled down. I went to the EOC, the Emergency Operations Center. I was helping out the IT and communications specialist. I have some knowledge of IT and computers, so I was helping out as much a I can. Phone calls after phone calls were coming in like crazy people reporting about everything. Some of the liaisons were trying to find shelters for people who lost their home, and I didn’t sleep for three days. Then I drove out the the east side to help my uncle. His house sustained a lot of water damage. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-4282488479078226228?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/4282488479078226228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-doug.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/4282488479078226228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/4282488479078226228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-doug.html' title='Tsunami Story: Doug'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5084653362749285140.post-5803695758841856231</id><published>2009-10-05T15:54:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T15:55:26.107-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami Story: Tokita</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tsunami Story: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; text-align: center; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tokita: Samoana High School Student, 9th Grade&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;On September 29, 2009, when it 6:49 am the earth is getting shake, and our village is getting scary. People are sleeping. They didn’t know what happen in that morning. When the know, they went to their car, then they went to pick up their kids from school, because they know what will happen after. Also some kids are crying for their parent, and the parent are crying for their kids and some family lost their member ad also there are many people fro, the village of Pago Pago and Leone. And also I got one member of my family die from the village of Pago Pago. Their house fall on her, because she wad sleeping inside the house, and also that day I feel sorry about people that are die from the tsunami because the were late to go on high mountain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5084653362749285140-5803695758841856231?l=tsunamistories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/feeds/5803695758841856231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-tokita.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/5803695758841856231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5084653362749285140/posts/default/5803695758841856231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tsunamistories.blogspot.com/2009/10/tsunami-story-tokita.html' title='Tsunami Story: Tokita'/><author><name>JessieLW</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10303890894737819277</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Pp5ZHmtmODk/S23siZ7onPI/AAAAAAAAAEs/0a2MmzAXoXo/S220/DSCN2336_2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
